Work Text:
"Alexa Smith. Subject #53."
Icy blue eyes opened to the blinding white light.
"The year is 3005. Your mission is in 1945. Your mission pack has been equipped with supplies. Good luck, #53."
The light grew more intense, and then – darkness.
Alexa's glacial eyes opened again. She stood and brushed the flecks of dust off herself. She assessed her surroundings, noting the magnificent building before her. A giant red flag with a black swastika in a white circle hung from the façade of the building. Factions of soldiers marched into the building.
Alexa knelt on the pavement and dug through her assigned satchel. A military-style blouse and skirt were inside, adorned with the same symbol on the flag. She pulled the clothes over her navy, skin-tight uniform.
She removed a thin item next. At first, it seemed to be a pane of glass, but a tap from Alexa's finger proved otherwise. Eerie blue light emitted from the holographic screen of her phone. This phone was her lifeline to her time period.
She tucked it in her breast pocket as she strode purposefully up the stairs to the building's entrance. Alexa's serious demeanor and straight platinum hair made many of the marching soldiers uneasy. She paid them no mind.
Alexa knew that she needed to gather information from the person who sees everyone who walks in. She kept her eyes trained on the man behind the main desk. She knew this would give her the man's full attention.
As soon as she reached the desk, she immediately began flirting with him, lulling the poor man into a false sense of security. As she chatted with him, she scanned the desk, searching.
Alexa kept an ear out for her turn to talk, though. She giggled, and responded in German, "You are just too funny," – she glanced at his nametag – "James."
He puffed up with pride.
"Unfortunately," she said, voice dropping to a low whisper, "I need to get to one of the lower levels here." She leaned in. "Top secret, y'know?"
"O-of course, ma'am," he answered. "Here's the key code." He scribbled down the numbers on a slip of paper.
She winked and turned for the elevator. She noticed that James also scratched down a time and a place, most likely asking for a date. She overlooked it and punched in the code for the elevator.
The ride down gave Alexa time to put on her stealth gear. All she needed was a silk scarf, preferably black, to hide her face and hair. She left on her military outfit.
She exited the elevator, recalling this area from her debriefing. She broke down the door to the first room. A stout man turned in surprise.
"Hello, sir," Alexa spat out in German.
Frantically, the man drew a gun. She laughed hollowly at his attempt. She unholstered her blaster and levels it at his head, hands unwavering.
He shot once at her chest, in desperation. It didn't hurt Alexa – her navy uniform was bulletproof. Unfortunately, her now shattered phone was not.
She pulled the trigger, knocking the man down dead. She looked over the body, expressionless.
"Goodbye, Hitler."
She assessed her broken phone now that her mission was done. She needed to report back to her superiors so she could go back to her time period. But she couldn't now.
~~~
Long story short, she never got back. How could she? She was the assassin, not the tech genius. And nobody in 1945, much less World War 2, had the time or resources to send her back.
She dated James, and made herself a happy life and family.
About 1,000 years, or 53 generations, later, her great-great-(etc)-granddaughter was born.
Her name was Alexa Smith.